Have We Met Before My Dear
by Nuttycheychey
Summary: Hatter ventures up top in order to search for Alice, but like her, he loses all memory of Underland and his past. What will happen when the two of them cross paths, each with no memory of each other? AlicexHatter. ADOPTED!
1. Chapter 1

Up until now Have We Met Before My Dear has been written by nineteennintytwo, she has put this story up for adoption and I volunteered to take it. The first four chapters were written by nineteennintytwo, the rest of the story will be written by me. I hope you enjoy!

Nuttycheychey


	2. The Journey Up

The Journey Up

_A scattered dream that's like a far of memory,_

_a far off memory that's like a scattered dream. _

_I wanna line the pieces up, _

_yours and mine. - Sora, Kingdom Hearts 2._

It was a bad idea.

Mallymkun knew that it had 'Bad Idea' written all over it in great big letters, but as usual, the Hatter wasn't even bothering to stop and read. The little mouse wished that he would. Probably save him a lot of trouble.

It had been five years since Alice last visited Underland, slew the Jabberwocky, and went back to her own world due to her family and unfinished business. She had promised to return, but Mallymkun was hoping that she wouldn't. Sure, she was the right Alice, but then she would keep Tarrant all to herself. And that was just a _slurvish_ thing to do, in the dormouse's eyes. But Hatter liked her back. Oh, he really did like her back. It was why he was risking going up top in the first place. He was disguising himself so he could fit in, the White Queen had offered him a vial of Jabberwocky blood, and he vowed to find Alice and convince her to return.

Yes, this was definitely a bad idea.

Sighing, Mallymkun sat on one of the many hat stands in Hatter's workshop, her head resting on her little paw as she waited for Tarrant to change out of his usual bright, florescent clothing. Something the White Queen had also given him; these boring, colourless clothes which McTwisp had said all the men wore up top in Alice's world. Hatter had been shocked at how boring it looked, and said that he couldn't understand why Alice would want to go back to a world like that, if that was how people dressed. But he took it and went to change into it anyway. Anything to get Alice back.

"Are you done yet?" Mallymkun asked, her tone full of huff and annoyance.

"Be patient, Mally," Tarrant said from behind the screen, and the little mouse could hear the brogue in his tone and how hoarse his voice had become. "I'm just coming to terms with how boring these clothes are. I cannot understand why people would wear such things. It's simply dreadful!"

"Then why do it?" Mallymkun questioned him, hoping to change his mind. "Why bother if it's not worth it? Alice chose ta go back there, so why not respect 'er choice, ditch the idea, and continue makin' 'ats and drinkin' tea?"

"Because I will not just leave her if she's miserable," the Hatter proclaimed, and Mallymkun sighed once more. "It's been five years – although I can't tell, since Time is being his tricky self – and I can sense that something's wrong. I at least need to go and check on her. If she's not ready to come back yet, then I shall respect her choice and wait for her above. But if she is, or if something's wrong, then I shall bring her back down again. It's the least I can do for her, since she saved Underland from the Jabberwocky, and now, it's my turn to save her."

Mallymkun placed her head in her paws. She was afraid that he would say something like that. Sure, everything was bad when the Red Queen was in power, but at least_ she_ wasn't here. Everything changed when _she_ arrived, waltzing up to the Tea Party like she owned it, and _him_. Mallymkun only tolerated her because she saved Underland, but that was it.

"Well, I'm ready, of sorts," Tarrant stated, bringing Mallymkun out of her thoughts as he stepped out from behind the screen.

"Hatter," Mallymkun gasped. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you've lost ya muchness."

Tarrant looked so different, she could barely recognize him. His suit was a beige colour, all neat and proper, complete with matching shoes polished nicely so that they shone in the sunlight. He wore his hat which had been coloured a similar colour (if there was one thing the Hatter refused to go without, it was his hat), using fabric and stitchings, and all the tools of his trade had been removed from his person. His eyebrows had been cut, his hair combed back, and died a more gingery colour. His skin wasn't even as pale as it had been; the White Queen had given him some powder to rub all over him, which still made him look pale, but not a pale white like he usually was. It was a more skin-coloured pale.

The only thing which hadn't changed at all were his eyes. Their colour simply couldn't be helped, as the White Queen put it. But Tarrant didn't want to change them; Alice wouldn't be able to recognize him, if he did.

"I know," he sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. "But if this is what it takes to see Alice, then so be it. Even if I lost all my muchness entirely, it wouldn't matter. Because I would have seen Alice again, and I would be with her, and if I never returned I wouldn't care, because home is where the heart is, and my heart belongs with her-"

"Hatter!" Mallymkun snapped, interrupting him.

The Hatter snapped out of his ramble, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he thanked her. "Thank you."

"But I am worried, Tarrant," Mallymkun spoke up, standing up and hopping down from the hat stand. "What if you don't ever come back? What if Alice truly _has _forgotten? What will you do then?"

"Well, like I said, if I don't ever come back, it wouldn't matter," the Hatter told her. "Home is where the heart is, and I lost my heart to Alice a long time ago. As for her not remembering, I can always jog her memory if she hasn't. But remember, she promised that she _would_ remember this time."

"Fine," Mallymkun huffed. "But if you get inta trouble up there, don't expect me ta come and rescue you or your bonnie lass."

Tarrant just rolled his eyes, before straightening out his jacket and walking out the door with Mallymkun following along behind. It was all mapped out in his head. He would drink the blood, go up the hole, find Alice, and return with her.

"Oh yes, Hatter!" he imagined she would say. "I will return with you! And did I ever tell you that I am in love with you?"

Of course, the last part was just a bonus, but still. He and Mallymkun walked through the great white halls of Marmoreal, thankfully meeting no one, until they arrived in the almost empty throne room. The White Queen sat upon her throne at the far end, and Nivens McTwisp stood next to her with his nose twitching with nerves. Only he had ever gone up top, and he was unsure what would happen to Tarrant when he went up there. He had gone up there with noting happening to him, obviously, but what of Tarrant? He was a man; would the effects be different?

"I see that you are ready, Tarrant?" the White Queen said flatly.

"Ready as I'll ever be," the Hatter informed her. "How do I look, McTwisp? Normal and plain enough?"

"Well, you certainly look better than you did before," the rabbit answered him. "Still a little out of place, but it would have to do. The eyes might cause a problem, though."

"Oh no, I don't want to change these," Tarrant protested. "I want Alice to at least recognize me. And if all else fails, I can change them myself to a more normal colour."

"Very well," McTwisp sighed. "Once you've found Alice, make your way back to the rabbit hole and jump down it. I shall leave a key for one of the other doors leading to Marmoreal, so neither of you have to go through the shrinking and growing stages. I'm sure Alice has had enough of that, anyway."

"Key goes to one of the larger doors. Got it," the Hatter acknowledged.

"And if you're gone for too long, I shall come up and find you both," McTwisp continued. "But I'm sure you won't encounter any trouble."

"You can never know these things, McTwisp," Tarrant told him. "Just be aware, though, that if Alice does not wish to return just yet, I shall wait for her above."

"You cannot be gone for too long, Tarrant," the White Queen informed him. "You shall lose your muchness, otherwise. Alice has probably lost a bit of hers too, being up there for the length of time she has."

"Don't worry, your Majesty, I shall restore it the moment we return," Tarrant assured her. "Now, all I need now is the Jabberwocky blood."

The White Queen nodded, before rising from her throne and walking down the steps towards him with air and grace. She handed him the small vial of the purple liquid. Tarrant grimaced at the sight; the last time he had seen that stuff, it had taken his Alice away from him. _His_ Alice. He liked the sound of that.

"Just wish to be with Alice while you drink, and it will take you up the nearest rabbit hole to her," she told him. "But please, do not spend longer than you need to up there. Who knows what will happen to you if you do."

"Rest assured, your Majesty," Tarrant informed her. "I shall be back before you know it."

His smile faltered as he said those words. The same words that Alice had told him right before she left; and she was never 'back before he knew it'. Otherwise, he wouldn't be venturing up top into her world, intent on bringing her back himself. Clearing his head of thoughts other than those concerning Alice, the Hatter clicked the cap off the vial and gulped it all down.

_Take me to Alice. _

Suddenly, the whole world began to fade around him. Marmoreal, Mallymkun, McTwisp, the White Queen...all were fading before his very eyes. Tarrant began to panic, but then, it faded altogether, and he found himself shooting upwards towards a bright light...

...arms out in front of him, Tarrant clutched the long grass as he hauled himself from the large rabbit hole. There was a bit of dirt on his coat, but he brushed it off as he stood up. The sun was shining, and the world looked very...dull. It was a lot duller compared to...where was it he had just come from?

Tarrant blinked in surprise. How could he have forgotten where he had just come from? He shook this question away as he turned, to see a large house in the distance, complete with neatly cut grass and red rose bushes. The red roses reminded him of someone, and yet, he couldn't put his finger on it. Now, all he had to do was...wait, what did he have to do again? Tarrant closed his eyes as he tried to remember, but found that he couldn't. His mind had gone blank. Empty. Not a memory to be found.

But how could he lose his memory, just like that?

Where was he? Who was he? Why was he standing in the middle of who-knows-where for a reason he couldn't even remember?

What...the...?

?


	3. Without Memories

Without Memory

?

He just couldn't understand how everything had gone. Did he bump his head? Was it amnesia? Did he even exist to begin with? But he dismissed that question immediately. He knew, deep down, that he had come from somewhere, and that he had lived a proper life. It was just remembering that life which was the problem.

The hole was still there behind him, and he wondered if he had just tripped and fallen, bumping his head in the process. But how could one fall down a hole like that? His only memory he had was from a few minutes before, when he had climbed out of the hole. He had to have been leaning right over it in order to fall into it. He wondered what he could have been doing. Looking for a rabbit, perhaps?

Sighing, he sat himself down underneath a nearby tree, bringing his hand up to his head. He _must_ be able to remember _something_, right?

"Now, say I _had_ been looking for a rabbit when I fell," he spoke aloud. "Why had I been looking for one in the first place? Or, maybe I should try and remember something easier."

He began to feel around in his pockets for something, _anything_, that could help him remember anything about his life. From one pocket he pulled out a handkerchief, and studying it closely, he read the initials in the corner.

_T.H._

"T.H?" he questioned himself. "So, my name begins with a 'T', and my second an 'H'. So let's see...Thomas? No, that's not it...um...Toby? Nope, still not ringing any bells. What other names begin with 'T'? Thaddeus...Theodore...Travis...Tarrant...wait, that's it! Tarrant!"

He smiled widely at his achievement, and almost instantly, his second name came to him.

"Hightopp!" he exclaimed. "My name is Tarrant Hightopp!"

It was a start, he had to admit. But when he waited for something else to come to him, nothing did. The rest of his mind was completely blank.

"Well, I suppose if I could remember my name, I would be able to remember something else," he told himself. "Perhaps if I checked my other pocket..."

So Tarrant reached into his other pocket, and to his surprise, discovered a small and empty vial. Not quite empty, though, for Tarrant noticed a few small drops of purple liquid at the bottom. He lifted the cap off and took a whiff. It did not smell appetizing.

"I wonder why I drank it in the first place?" he wondered out loud. "Oh well. At least I know that I've been drinking something, which could be a cause of the memory loss as well as the fall was. Why I was drinking from a vial, though, I don't know."

He placed it back into his pocket for safe keeping, and allowed himself to sigh. There had to be _something_ else which could help him. It was then that Tarrant remembered that he was wearing a hat; a beige-coloured top hat, which for some reason, looked rather bland. He had expected it to be more colourful as he took it off his head and observed it.

The hat seemed to bring forwards and new collection of images in his mind. Fabrics, scissors, stitchings, sewing, stands, material, colours, buttons, dresses, hats...

"That's it!" Tarrant suddenly cried, leaping to his feet. "I'm a hatter! No, a milliner! Yes, that's right, milliner! Although I think I specialized in hats."

He hoped that more memories would come to him; where he made hats, how many he had made, the different designs, whether his father had been a milliner, too. But there was nothing. Black, heavy curtains surrounded that small spark of light which was his memory, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get them to lift.

"Oh well," he sighed in defeat. "At least I've gotten _somewhere_."

Placing his hat back on his head, Tarrant stood up and brushed the dirt off his beige clothes (which for some reason, looked very bland in his eyes). Looking around him, he once again noticed the large house in the distance.

"I must have come from there," he told himself. "There's no where else I could have come from. And maybe I'll meet a familiar face there; then my memory could just jog, or that person could help me remember."

So, his face set in determination, Tarrant began to make his way towards the large manor house in the distance. The strange thing was, Tarrant soon realized, that it didn't look familiar at all. His handkerchief, the vial and his hat had all helped him recall some memory or other (the vial had just looked familiar to him), but the house he was heading towards didn't ring any sort of bells at all. Nor did the gardens. He must of hit his head harder than he thought.

Tarrant pushed aside branches and bushes as he walked, wondering why he had strayed so far in the first place, until he came across the entrance to what appeared to be a maze. He stepped inside, and was soon turning corner after corner, getting himself helplessly lost.

"But it's not like I can remember the way out," he muttered to himself, frustrated when he arrived at yet another dead end.

But then he heard a voice. It caused him to stop dead in his tracks, as if he had been slapped, and he listened for it. It came again. Light and airy like a song being sung by a mermaid, or a poem being recited by an angel. Funny how someone talking could sound like that, but Tarrant thought it the softest, most beautiful voice ever spoken (not that he could remember any other voice apart from his own).

So, he followed the voice. It was distinctively female, that much was certain, and it lead Tarrant through the maze like a siren's song, luring him forwards. And then, Tarrant turned the corner, and his heart stopped beating when his eyes met bright hazel orbs just inches away from him.

Very, very familiar eyes.

"Why, have we met before, my dear?"


	4. Alice Kingsleigh

Alice Kingsleigh

It was the first question that appeared in Tarrant's head, for when he looked at her, he had a strange feeling that he had seen her before. Somewhere in his memory, the familiar face was nagging to break free, hopefully with a name, if he was lucky. But it didn't, and Tarrant was just left staring blankly at her, his mouth open to form a small 'o'. He may not remember who she was, but there was one thing he could say about her: she was absolutely beautiful.

He couldn't remember any other women in order to compare her to, but he just knew it. Her golden blonde locks cascaded down over her shoulders, waving like the tidal movements on a sunlit shore; her eyes were a beautiful hazel colour, glistening in the sunlight, the orbs being enough to captivate him into complete stillness; and then there was her face. Her oh so beautiful face, smooth and pale, and her skin looking so soft he could just reach out and stroke it. But he didn't, of course. That would just be a very forwards thing to do.

The young woman, of about twenty-four years of age, stared back at him, equally shocked. He seemed very...familiar, although she couldn't remember where she had seen a man like him before. Certainly not in China; he didn't look Chinese. But he was certainly odd. She liked odd.

They just stood there, staring at each other silently with confused, startled looks upon their faces, unsure of what to say to each other. Both seemed to have this feeling, deep down inside of them, that something should happen. They needed to say something to each other, but it was just finding those right words to say. It was only after a couple of minutes did the woman realize that she had yet to answer the man's question.

"Um...I don't think so?" she admitted quite honestly. "Although, you do seem familiar. Different, but familiar. May I ask for your name?"

"It's...Tarrant Hightopp," Tarrant replied, after pausing for a moment to remember; the memories in his head were already getting very confusing, despite there only being a few which he could recall.

The woman blinked in surprise. Even more familiar. A look of recognition seemed to show up in her eyes, but it soon dismissed, and she shook her head. She thought she had remembered, but she must have been mistaken.

"And what might your name be?" Tarrant enquired. "Perhaps if you told me yours, then I might remember, even if you don't."

"Oh, my name's Alice Kingsleigh," she introduced herself.

It was Tarrant's turn to blink in surprise. That name...it sounded so familiar, and what was the word for it? It sounded very...muchy. Yes, that's it. Muchness. Tarrant didn't understand where such a word had come from, and why he had been complied to use it, but he had, and it summed this woman up quite nicely. Although, he could tell that whatever this 'muchness' was, some of it was missing from her. He could see it in her eyes, and he didn't even know her. At least, he thought he didn't?

"Familiar, but I can't put my finger on where I've heard your name before," Tarrant admitted. "Or where I've seen you before. I am certain that I have."

"Maybe, maybe not," Alice said, shrugging. "But I wouldn't be surprised if you have heard of me; I've been making quite a name for myself these past five years."

"How so?" Tarrant asked, interested.

"Well, I turned down a proposal from Hamish Ascot, which caused a lot of gossip around London," Alice explained. "And then I assisted his father, Lord Ascot, with setting up a trading post in China. We were the first to trade with that country, you know. It was something I had to do; the company used to belong to my father, you see, and Lord Ascot purchased it when he died."

"You certainly _have_ been making a name for yourself, haven't you?" Tarrant complimented her. "It's nice to see that you're happy doing it, though. I would hate to see a pretty young woman like yourself living a life she does not wish to live."

Then, for some reason or other, he reached out and placed a light kiss upon her hand, like a proper gentleman. This made Alice suspicious.

"You are very kind, sir, but please be honest with me," she told him. "Are you one of my mother's suitors?"

"Suitor?" Tarrant question. "What on earth...?"

"Ever since I got back from China, a few weeks ago, my mother has been pushing suitor after suitor in my face," Alice explained. "I've already told her that I do not wish to marry quite yet, and that I would find a husband in my own time, but she would have none of it. "You'll die a spinster", she says. "You'll end up like your Mad Aunt Imogene", she says."

She even did an impression of her mother, which caused Tarrant to chuckle.

"No, you do not have to worry about that," he assured her. "I'm not one of those 'suitors', as you call them. At least, I don't think I am?"

"You don't think?"

"Well, I don't remember," he began, scratching the back of his head. "I think I tripped and fell down a rabbit hole nearby. The last thing I can remember is climbing back out again, all covered in dirt. I can't remember anything else; my life, where I live, or anything like that. All I can remember is that my name is Tarrant Hightopp, and that I'm a milliner."

Alice allowed herself to sigh in relief. At least this concluded that he wasn't; she knew her mother, and prim and proper as she was, she would never approve of a man who was below them in status. Unless she was desperate.

"Don't worry, I don't think you are," she assured him, since he was getting himself in a confused muddle. "You're too nice; all the suitors I've had have all been stuck up snobs who do not care for me or the company. All they want is a wife who's pretty and will keep silent, and I'm certain they want the money I've made, too."

"Now, that's just _slurvish_."

Alice looked up at him in surprise. She had never heard that word before, but at the same time, it sounded familiar.

"Pardon?"

Tarrant looked equally as confused as he repeated the word in his head. What had made him say such a thing? He didn't even know what it meant.

"I don't know," he admitted. "The word just slipped out. My mind has been very, very slippery since I seemed to slip into that hole, and I can't say that I'm surprised, since the slip seems to have made my memories slip as well, so you could say, that I am in a very slippery state of mind today, and-"

"Tarrant?"

Tarrant blinked, shaking his head as his ramble came to a sudden stop. Well, that had been...peculiar.

"Thank you," he thanked Alice. "I'm fine."

Alice couldn't help but smile at the man she had met, or had met before...whichever. He was different compared to most men she had met, and despite only really knowing him for a few minutes, she already liked him. He had that quality which was similar to hers, whatever that quality was. Slight madness? She wasn't sure, but she liked him all the same.

"That's all right," she said finally. "And don't worry, you're not the first to fall down a rabbit hole. In fact, if it's the one I'm thinking about, I think I fell down the same one, five years before."

"Really?" Tarrant questioned. "How?"

"Well, Hamish had just asked me to marry him, and even though I wanted to say no, everyone was watching us," Alice explained. "They all expected me to, and I didn't know what would happen if I turned him down. So I ran, knowing that I needed time to think. But I must have tripped and fallen into the hole, hitting my head in the process. It was the strangest thing, though, when I climbed out. I felt like something had happened, and that there was more of...me, inside of me. And it was that which gave me the determination to stand up for myself."

"I think...what your talking about is muchness," he spoke up.

"Yes, I think you're right," Alice agreed. "But I think you have a bad case of amnesia; don't worry, though. I can find someone to help you. Here, come inside with me. I'm sure Lord Ascot will do all he can, as well."

She took a hold of Tarrant's hand, and a warm feeling seemed to pass through both of them, causing them to freeze. They stared into each others eyes, and for a moment, the world melted away and it was just them, alone. The moment was gone again as quickly as it had come, and Alice gave Tarrant a warm smile before she began to lead him towards the house.

They had become friends, unaware that they already were.


	5. Meeting People

Meeting People

It was all happening so fast. One minute he didn't even know who he was and how he had gotten to these gardens, and the next, he was being pulled along by a young (and very beautiful, he might add) woman who wanted to help him, despite not even knowing him at all. And yet, they both felt like they had known each other their whole lives. Tarrant had decided that they could have known each other before; after all, he didn't really remember anything, and Alice did mention falling down the same rabbit hole herself. She could have very well bumped her head and forgotten him.

But whether they were friends before or not, they both felt that there was something special between them. A feeling which could not be ignored, and could not be mistaken for anything but what it was. True friendship. And neither of them seemed to mind the feeling at all.

After turning many corners, the two friends finally made it out of the maze and came upon a fresh green lawn. It was neatly cut – a little _too_ neat for Tarrant's liking – and was empty, apart from a lone gardener weeding out the flower beds. Not very far away stood a large manor house; it was grey in colour, and Tarrant thought it was a bit bland.

"You live here?" he asked Alice.

In his opinion, he couldn't understand how anyone as colourful and as pretty as her could ever live in a place like the manor standing before him.

"No, thankfully," Alice replied. "It belongs to my business partner, Lord Ascot. He lives here wife and son, Hamish. Of course, I would have been living here if I had accepted Hamish's proposal."

Tarrant found he was relieved that she had declined this man's proposal, and after some thought, wondered why he _was_ relieved. The feelings which had suddenly appeared were confusing him, and he couldn't understand why, or where they had come from. All he knew was that they had surfaced the moment he met Alice...

"Tarrant?"

The man in question was brought from his thoughts, blinking and shaking his head in order to clear his mind.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"That's all right," Alice assured him. "I often lose myself in my thoughts. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

She gave him a smile and Tarrant smiled back, revealing the gap in between his teeth. This made Alice pause and frown with a thoughtful expression. That smile...seemed awfully familiar...

"Now who's losing themselves in their thoughts, hmm?"

Alice blinked out of her trance to find Tarrant grinning widely at her. She flashed him a playful smile.

"Very funny," she told him. "Come on, Lord Ascot should be inside."

She took his hand in hers again (they both tried their best to ignore the warm rush that time) and led him towards the manor house. Once inside, they walked over to a door which was only slightly open, and which Tarrant could hear voices coming from inside. He and Alice crept forwards, and Alice shushed him as they looked through the gap.

Tarrant saw six people seated inside. The first was a rather old man with a moustache, grey hair, and an air of superiority which convinced Tarrant that this was Lord Ascot. He also had a friendly and jolly look to him, shown through his deep, echoing laughter.

The woman seated next to him was the complete opposite. She was the same age as Lord Ascot, yes, and also had an air of superiority, but that was where the similarities ended. She looked very stern, strict, and a formal woman; Tarrant assumed this was Lord Ascot's wife.

This gave him enough evidence to guess that the young man seated next to her was the son, Hamish. And just by looking at him, Tarrant could understand why Alice turned him down; he looked just as stern and formal as his mother, and his large nose didn't look very attractive. Tarrant failed to see why _any_ woman would want him.

The other man present wasn't much of a step higher. His hair was dark, and despite his well-dressed appearance and polite speech, Tarrant could see right through him; disloyal, dishonest, and dishonourable (two 'dis' words, Tarrant found himself thinking proudly) through and through. He would have to keep a close eye on him.

The young woman seated next to him was, Tarrant agreed with himself, a lot better. She seemed to be about a decade older than Alice, and in some ways, looked a lot like the young blonde. Only her hair was more of a honey colour and her eyes were green. But Tarrant could see that she was a lovely, soft spoken woman.

The older woman next to her, the room's final occupant, seemed just as lovely, but Tarrant could also make out that she somewhat shared the wife's sternness and strictness, just not as extreme. Her hair was blonde, like Alice's, but Tarrant could see the grey hairs of old age starting to show through.

He made all these observations within the space of a few seconds, before Alice pushed him back away from the door. She didn't want her family and friends to see him just yet.

"Wait here," she told him. "I don't know what their reactions will be, but I doubt any of them would be pleasant. I'll bring Lord Ascot out first and explain what happened."

So Tarrant waited outside the room as Alice ventured inside. The talking stopped, and Tarrant heard Alice ask if she could speak with Lord Ascot in private. Footsteps were heard, and moments later, Alice was standing with Lord Ascot in the hall. The older man gave Tarrant a puzzled look.

"Alice, may I ask who this is?" he asked the young blonde.

"His name is Tarrant Hightopp," Alice replied. "I found him wondering the grounds outside."

"I see," Lord Ascot spoke, his eyes still firmly fixed upon Tarrant. "Sir, can you tell me how and why that is?"

"He doesn't remember," Alice explained, answering before Tarrant could even open his mouth. "He said he fell down a hole and hit his head."

"That hole again?" Lord Ascot questioned. "It's more trouble than it's worth, that thing. I really ought to get it filled up."

"NO!" both Alice and Tarrant suddenly cried out.

Lord Ascot blinked in surprise at their sudden outburst, and after a few moments, both Alice and Tarrant wondered why they had reacted in such a way. It was strange, but they just knew that rabbit hole was important, although neither of them could remember why.

"The...the rabbits," Alice finally said after some hesitation. "They won't have a place to live. And I do love rabbits."

"Very well," the older man agreed. "So Mr Hightopp here has a bad case of amnesia?"

"Apparently so," Alice answered. "He said that the last thing he remembers is climbing out of the rabbit hole."

"Nothing at all before then," Tarrant added. "My family, where I was born, not even how I arrived on your grounds. All I can recall is my name and that I am a milliner."

Lord Ascot looked thoughtful.

"Well, I trust that your intentions were honourable, however you came here," he said. "I know a good man when I see one, and you sir, are as such."

"That's very kind of you to say, sir."

"I shall go and explain the story to the rest," Lord Ascot continued. "Bring him in when I call."

And with that he re-entered the drawing room. Alice and Tarrant waited patiently as they listened to Lord Ascot explaining the situation to the room's other occupants.

"He's a very nice gentleman," Tarrant complimented.

"Yes," Alice agreed. "A shame his wife and son are not the same."

"Alice," Lord Ascot called.

Alice took a deep breath before entering the room, Tarrant trailing along behind her. He kept his head down and his hat lowered to avoid the gazes he knew would all be averted in his direction.

"This is Mr Hightopp?" the blonde haired older woman asked.

"Tarrant, remove your hat," Alice whispered to him.

Jumping with nerves, Tarrant did as asked, finally lifting his gaze to face those giving him curiously odd looks. He bowed a little and smiled nervously.

"That I am, Mrs...?"

"Helen Kingsleigh," she introduced herself. "I'm Alice's mother."

That was why she looked familiar, Tarrant realized. Alice looked a lot like her mother.

"And this is my sister, Margaret," Alice introduced, nodding her head towards each person in the room. "The man next to her is her husband, Lowell Manchester; and that's Lady Ascot and her son, Hamish."

Tarrant gave them each a small bow, still too nervous to say anything more. These people were of higher class than him, after all, and he had to remember that. Margaret spoke as Alice and Tarrant sat down.

"Was it amnesia he was suffering from?" she questioned.

"Yes," Alice replied. "He cannot remember anything other than his name and occupation."

"Can anything be done?" Lowell asked.

"Well, the same thing happened to my own father when I was still only a boy," Lord Ascot explained. "The doctor advised us to just leave him, and his memories would come back to him over time. And they did."

"But where can he stay until then, if he does not even know where he lives?" Lady Ascot realized. "He's certainly not staying here."

"Caroline, dear..."

"He could perhaps stay with us, could he not?" Alice offered, turning to her mother. "Since Margaret has moved out we have a spare room, don't we, Mother?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Helen agreed. "Besides, his family are sure to miss him. They'll start looking soon, if not straight away."

Tarrant was happy that he would be spending more time with Alice, but when Helen said this, he felt sadness flood through him. It was a strange feeling, and Tarrant couldn't understand it, but it told him that he may not even _have_ a family waiting for him, wherever he came from.


	6. Discontinued

Dear readers,

I am sad to report that until further notice, all projects are here by discontinued. They will still be available for you to read, but I'm afraid that I won't be writing again. If offers for adoptions come up for one of my stories I may allow it. The only stories that I will not allow this for are the following:

Follow Me Series (Follow Me Up, Follow Me Through the Glass of Time, Follow Me Through the Silver Glass)

A Band of Heroes

Search for the Stone (Including Mystery on Foreign Lands)

The Return of Narcissa

Forbidden

Dawn of an Era

A Clan Again (including Sight to the Blind)

Ever After

I am sorry for the short notice and I do hope to one day continue writing, but I'm afraid that for now, nothing will be done. I really am truly sorry to all who have been anticipating the ends of the stories I never finished. But I'm afraid that for now no new projects will be started and no current projects shall be continued. Sorry to Darienella, Ranguvar27, and THEMADHATTER1995.

Please note: I am _**NOT CONTEMPLATING SUICIDE! **_I am just having a hard time is all.

Thank you for understanding and my apologies for the abruptness of this.

With thanks to all of you,

Nuttycheychey


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